


Couldn't Wait for the Summer and the Warped Tour

by lalune15



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, indie harry, pop punk! louis, warped tour au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalune15/pseuds/lalune15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Warped Tour AU where Louis is the frontman of famous pop-punk band The Rogue and Harry is an indie guitarist just trying to get someone to buy an EP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolutely shameless. I saw a post of pop punk Louis on tumblr and thought of this. I mention other alternative bands in nearly every other sentence and totally copy their experiences. Oops.
> 
> Also I go to Warped Tour every summer, so mentions of t-shirts, tents, etc, have all been things I've seen there. And the title is from "The Rock Show" by Blink-182.

Louis is weaving through the bus area, cheap rubber flip flops he always buys for tour smacking against the pavement, when he hits someone. Hard.

“Oops.” Louis looks up to see a long-limbed boy, legs clad in black skinny jeans despite the bright Pomona sun, staring at him with wide green eyes.

“Hi,” Louis replies, reaching up to adjust his aviators from where they’ve slipped down his nose. The stranger doesn’t reply, but is now looking at him with a slightly awestruck expression, mouth agape.

Fuck. Louis likes meeting fans, but the tour literally started a day ago. It’s a little early in the season for them to be slipping past security into the tour buses.

“Do you want something, kid?” He asks, taking in the boy’s messy curls tucked under a green beanie the color of pea soup and the pimples dotting his cheeks and chin. He can’t be older than eighteen, if Louis had to guess. He still doesn’t reply, and Louis’ already thin patience is coming to an end.

“Look kid, are you even supposed to be here?” Louis snaps. The awkward fans are the worst for him, because he can respect honesty and big talkers but the fans who just stare make him uncomfortable. He was on his way to his bus for a break between his band, The Rogue’s, signing and their set, and waiting for a shy kid to muster up his courage his cutting his precious moments with an air conditioner short.

“No,” the boy blurts, causing Louis’ eyebrows to raise in surprise. You don’t normally admit when you’re trespassing, after all.

He shakes his head, curls cutting across his cheekbones, and sighs. “I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry,” he rambles, licking his lips. Louis waits for him to explain, a bored expression plastered on his face.

“Yes, I’m supposed to be here, but no, I didn’t want anything,” the boy continues. “I’m performing actually! My buddy Niall and I just got added to the tour,” he finishes, looking a little proud of himself for getting it all out.

Louis slides his aviators to the top of his backwards snapback and squints his blue eyes, taking in the person across from him. “People don’t just get added to Warped Tour, mate. It’s normally a pretty planned-out thing, you know,” he remarks snidely.

He knows he’s being a bit rude, but ever since he caught a fan hiding in the back of the bus collecting the hair out of his brush, his tolerance for stalkers has gone down significantly. Being added to Warped Tour last minute doesn’t really just happen, especially for a kid who Louis is quite certain he’s never seen before, and this is his third turn on Warped Tour.

“Yeah, it was a kind of random stroke of good fortune,” the boy says slowly, playing with his hands and shifting his weight uncomfortably. “We were volunteering to work in catering in exchange for being allowed to hand out CD’s and promote our band, but then Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties crashed their tour bus and cancelled the tour so Kevin asked if we wanted to play the Acoustic Basement first each day because we’re the only volunteering band that’s just guitars and singers, so we have all our equipment ready,” he finishes with a long exhale.

Louis nods, enjoying the blush creeping across the kid’s cheeks. He’s clearly a little out of his element, something Louis remembers well from his first year on Warped. He and his bandmates, Liam and Stan, were seventeen when they were first invited to play and it was so awkward to walk around like the naïve kids from England they were around the bands they had idolized for years. But Louis has made some of his best friends from playing the tour, and he knows it just takes time for the new blood to get accustomed.

“Here, I have proof!” The boy reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a laminated tour ID with the name Harry Styles printed underneath his photo in black block letters.

“Styles, huh?” Louis asks. “Proper rockstar name.”

“Hardly,” Harry snorts, turning his ID over so Louis can see the other side, which is covered in glittery Hello Kitty stickers.

“Hello Kitty? Really?” Louis asks, trying to hide the grin poking at the corner of his mouth. Who is this kid?

“Um…my goddaughter gave me the stickers and I couldn’t say no?” Harry gets out in a high-pitched voice.

“You sure about that?” Louis asks, giving him a knowing grin.

Harry just blushes, shoving the laminate back into his pocket. He offers a shy smile, pulling off his beanie and running a hand through his chocolate curls.

“I’m Louis, by the way,” Louis says, offering his hand to Harry.

“Oh, I know,” He blurts, before covering his eyes with his hands. “Oh my God, I cannot believe I just said that.”

“It’s alright,” Louis laughs. “It’s not the first time that’s happened.” It’s not. Louis’ face has graced the cover of _Alternative Press_ , _Rock Sound_ and _Kerrang!_ multiple times, with and without the rest of the Rogue, who are set to play the main stage every night this summer. They were handpicked to open for The Foo Fighters last year and sold-out a co-headlining tour with All Time Low, all by the age of 22. To say he’s met his fair share of fans/co-workers is an understatement. It comes with the territory when you’re considered the “darlings of pop punk” (thank you, _Billboard_ ).

“Yeah, I kind of, um…we kind of even got offered a spot on Warped Tour because of our cover of ‘No Control’?” Harry squeaks. “It got us a lot of, um, attention on YouTube and Facebook so our numbers looked really good when we emailed the tour about possibly playing this summer. I kind of wanted to say thank you, actually.”

Louis grins, a real smile overtaking his face. “No Control” was his favorite song he’d ever written and he was as upset as the fans that it was never a single.

“Sick, mate,” Louis enthuses. “What’s your band called? I’ll look it up on the bus later.”

“Oh, don’t do that, please,” Harry stumbles. “It’s nowhere near as good as the original, honestly. I’d be so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, kid, every band on this tour has done a cover,” Louis says, brushing his insecurities right off. “What’s your band called?”

Harry mumbles something so quietly Louis can’t hear him. “What was that?”

“Irish Breakfast,” Harry says clearly, staring at the painted lines of the parking spot below his Converse-clad feet with his hands clasped behind his back. Louis lifts a single brow in response.

“Go on,” he prods.

“My mate is Irish and I’m from England originally, so he thought it would be funny to do a pun on English Breakfast tea and I couldn’t come up with anything better,” Harry explains. “It kind of stuck.”

“I knew I heard a hint of an accent in there,” Louis says. “But I’m a Yorkshire man, myself.”

“I lived in Cheshire until I was seven, and then my stepdad got a job here so we moved to America,” Harry says.

“Cool, mate!” Louis replies honestly. “Our bassist Stan and I are from Donny and our drummer Liam is from Wolverhampton. It’ll be nice to have another Brit around.”

Harry’s entire face brightens, shoulders relaxing as he gets his first proper look at Louis’ face. He knows who he is, obviously, has even seen The Rogue in concert a few times, but it’s different to look at in person, less than a foot across from him. Louis doesn’t need to know Harry knew where he grew up and bought two copies of _Alternative Press_ the first time The Rogue was on the cover, one to tape on his wall and another to save. Niall is going to be so jealous when Harry tells him about this.

“Anyway,” Louis continues, waving at Derek from Mayday Parade over Harry’s shoulder. Harry follows his gaze and tries but fails to not look awestruck again, wide green eyes shining. “I should probably get going, have to get ready to go on stage soon.”

“Right,” Harry says, dimples poking into his cheeks. “You’re headlining main stage, which is so amazing.”

There. He spoke an entire sentence while maintaining his composure. A success for Harry, at least today.

“Yeah, man, it’s cool,” Louis says, looking amused. He opens his mouth to speak again but is cut off by a shout from behind him.

“Oi, Tommo! Let’s go, mate!” Harry and Louis turn to see Liam standing with his impressive arms crossed over his bare chest, drumsticks peeking out of the waistband of his gym shorts. Liam is one of the best drummers in music, according to _Rolling Stone’s_ 50 Greatest Drummers lists, and he has the physique to prove it. Harry is both in admiration of and terrified of him.

“See you around, kid,” Louis says to Harry. “Come by the bus sometime if you want, bring Niall with you! We’ll tell you all you have to know about the ‘punk rock summer camp,’” he says drily, rolling his eyes at that last bit.

“Sick,” Harry smiles as Louis begins to walk towards Liam. He is just about to maintain his cool when his words start to leave his mouth with reckless abandon. “You should come check us out tomorrow!” He calls to Louis’ back. “We’re playing the Acoustic Basement tent at 11:30.”

Louis’ eyes sparkle when he turns around, amusement clear in his features. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, walking backwards but keeping his eyes on Harry. “Later, kid.”

“Bye!” Harry waves, smile wide on his long face. Louis turns back to Liam and Harry tries not to swoon.

“Shit,” he mutters, shoving his beanie back on his head. The first day of tour and he’s already in over his head.

\+ -

Harry and Niall are smack in the middle of a massive crowd of sweaty, sunburned teenagers, waiting for The Rogue to take the stage. Once Louis had walked out of sight, Harry had grabbed Niall and pulled him out to watch the last band of the night. The audience began to cheer as Liam walked onstage, starting a slow but heavy beat before Stan joined him, bass in hand. The screaming intensified as Louis ran onstage, barefoot, hopping up to the microphone set front and center.

“Hello,” he says, taking in the crowd as he sways on the spot, eyes cool and neutral but a smile playing on his thin lips. “We’re The Rogue and this is a song about us,” he finishes, slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder. “It’s called ‘Clouds.’”

Niall is thrashing with the audience as the band plays song after song, but Harry is standing still, his eyes affixed to Louis as he swaggers around stage, guitar resting in his hands like it was made to be there. His hair his swept messily over his head and his chest piece peeks out from underneath a black tank top with Skate Tough emblazoned on the front, black skinny jeans clinging to his strong thighs.

“We have one song left,” Louis tells the audience, wiping sweat off his brow. “We decided to do a cover by some Warped Tour veterans, because you’re never too good for a cover,” he laughs, eyes sweeping over where Harry is standing, squeezed in between two girls in hot pink crop tops that read “ _ **Fuck Hipsters**_.” Nice. The band launches into a cover of New Found Glory’s “Hit Or Miss” and Harry can’t help but be caught up in it, repeating the lines back when Louis instructs them to. By the time the song ends, his curls are matted to his face and his jeans feel suctioned to his legs.

“That was fucking incredible!” Niall shouts as they walk back to the area reserved for the bands and their vehicles. “Do you think we can get them to do a song with us to put online? You and Louis are friends now, aren’t ya?” He rambles on as Harry grabs two cans of “tour water,” or water put into empty cans of Monster energy drink, who sponsor the tour.

“Maybe by the end of the tour, dude, but I literally met him less than three hours ago,” Harry says as he passes Niall a can. “And I kind of came off as a crazy fan, so I don’t know how much he’s going to want to do a song with us.”

Niall hums, lips turned downwards. “Well, it’s only the first day,” he reconciles, already looking more cheerful. “We still have a whole summer to become best friends and convince them to have us open for them on their next tour!” Harry laughs, always surprised by Niall’s optimism.

“Keep dreaming, Ni.”

Harry and Niall head over to their van, not having enough money to afford a bus yet. They don’t need much anyway, it’s just the two of them and their guitars, some t-shirts and CD’s shoved in a milk crate behind the seats. They really weren’t prepared to actually play the tour, but they recognized a once in a lifetime opportunity when they saw it. It won’t be hard for the two to live in each other’s pockets anyway. They quickly became best friends when Niall moved to Colorado from Mullingar their sophomore year of high school, bonding over the fact that they both had strange accents and a mutual love for Stevie Nicks. Four years later and they’re still as close, playing small bars and making YouTube covers together, with the occasional original song thrown in.

The “No Control” cover had been enough to get them some spots in larger clubs and venues, opening up for the occasional touring band passing through but mostly sharing the bill with more popular local bands. With the increased money they were able to record the _One Thing_ EP, which they’re selling for $5 all tour. It’s not much, but it’s progress, and Harry and Niall are happy with what they’ve done so far.

The downside to their once in a lifetime opportunity is a complete lack of preparation. Without being able to invite any friends to help them out, it’s up to the two of them to do everything from driving their van to tuning their instruments to performing and selling their merch. There’s a big difference from being hired to serve food in exchange for handing out their stuff for free and actually performing. But they’ll make it work. They won’t settle for anything less.

Niall drives the six hours from Pomona to Mountain View while Harry snores in the passenger seat. He wants to be awake to watch the scenery change, has never really been anywhere but Colorado and England before, but the excitement has taken its toll and his eyes are closed before he can even tell Niall that Louis had invited them to hang out with him and the band.

\+ -

“Thank you, we’ve been Irish Breakfast and we’ll be selling copies of our CD by the Fearless Records tent all day,” Harry tells the small group gathered under the tent him and Niall are playing the next morning. “This song is called ‘Happily.’”

He’s a little disappointed Louis didn’t show up to watch them play, but he’s not surprised. He’s sure Louis is busy, and he has his own friends and better things to do than watch two twenty-year-old’s play their beat up guitars under the California sun. He probably forgot, in all honesty.

He’s walking between the buses later, looking for some water and a spot of shade, when someone calls him over.

“Hey! Hello Kitty!” Harry turns at the familiar reedy accent, where Louis is smirking from a lawn chair, surrounded by people Harry has definitely pasted pictures of on his bedroom wall.

“Hi,” he drawls nervously as he ambles over, looking awkwardly over the group.

“You want a beer, kid?” Louis asks, gesturing to the cooler by his feet.

“Ok,” he replies hesitantly, taking in the group of people he’s looking over. Louis literally has his feet resting in the lap of Lynn Gunn, the lead singer of PVRIS.

“Everyone, this is Harry,” Louis announces loudly, waving his hand in Harry’s direction. “Harry, this is everyone.”

“Hi,” he says again, shyly, as several heads turn his way. “Have a seat, mate,” Louis invites, slapping Stan’s bicep for him to stand and let Harry take his seat. Stan grumbles but goes to get another fold-out chair, leaving his empty for Harry.

"You alright?” A kind voice on his other side asks. He turns to see Liam looking at him with warm brown eyes and a friendly expression. From far away, his impressive muscle mass, tattoos and shaved head make him look intimidating, but from up close he looks more like a puppy. “It can be a little scary the first time,” Liam assures him. “Our first tour, we didn’t talk to anyone for a week, until Louis accidentally walked onto Less Than Jake’s tour bus.”

“A beautiful mistake,” Louis adds, startling Harry. He didn’t realize Louis had been listening. “They have excellent, um, hospitality.”

“He means weed,” Lynn comments drily. “They have excellent weed.”

“Hey!” Louis squawks, pulling his feet off Lynn’s lap and sitting up straight. “We don’t want to scare young Harold with tales of my debauchery just yet.”

“It’s just Harry, actually,” Harry jumps in. “And a little weed doesn’t scare me. I’m not two.”

“Oh, I like you,” Louis smiles. “I think we’re going to be great friends. Aren’t we, Harold?” Harry nods, taking a sip of the beer Louis handed him, condensation running down the sides. He thinks it’s probably smarter to let Louis call him whatever he wants for now. He’s known him for less than a day and can already Louis’s trouble.

“So, how did your first set go?” Louis asks, giving Harry his full attention. So he didn’t forget.

“It was really nice,” Harry answers. “There were only like ten kids there at the start, but the crowd grew as we played and we sold two CD’s. Can’t ask for much more, really.”

“That’s great, Harry,” Louis says encouragingly. “Seriously. Ten kids is great for an unknown band early in the morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry mumbles, blushing again. Will he ever not be pink in front of Louis?

“I mean it,” Louis says. “A lot of really big bands started as unknowns on Warped Tour. And you’re going to be one of them, I can feel it!” Harry snorts, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Lou.” And, oops. The nickname just slipped out but Louis just brightens more.

“I’ll bet you,” Louis says. “Actually, even better. I’m going to ask for your autograph, so I can say I knew you back you were a little hipster playing to ten kids on Warped Tour.”

“I’m _so_ not signing an autograph,” Harry insists, shaking his head as Louis procures a piece of paper from the notebook he has tucked into the pocket of his shorts.

“Oh, you _so_ are,” Louis mimics, thrusting the paper and a pen at him. “Come on. In five years I can sell it on EBay and get rich!”

“I think you’re already kind of rich,” Harry points out.

“Kind of isn’t good enough, Harold,” Louis retorts. “I want my own plane and a swimming pool filled with Nutella. So, come on! Sign the paper.”

Harry ducks his head and scribbles his name hastily, feeling like a massive idiot. “Perfect!” Louis exclaims, looking it over and tucking it carefully back into his notebook.

“So,” he says casually, stretching his arms out in front of him. His wrist is decorated with the symbols of playing cards, the logo for The Rogue. “Did you fuck hipsters yesterday, Harry?” Harry chokes on his beer, trying not to snort it out of his nose.

“You saw me in the audience?”

“Of course,” Louis answers, like it was obvious. “You’re hard to miss.” Harry blushes again, staring down at his feet. He was definitely right yesterday.

He is in way, way over his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a bit to update! I had to work every day last week and today was my first day off. Let me know what you think of the chapter and the story in general! It's going to get more exciting next chapter.

Louis is speechless.

He’s seen covers of his songs before, of course he had, and plenty of them have been good. Really good, in fact. But none of them have been like this.

“Li, you up?” He whisper-calls across the bunks, his curtain pushed back so he can look across to where Liam has his own drawn shut.

“No,” a weary voice replies. Then, a few seconds later…”What’s up?”

“Come look at this video,” Louis beckons, seeing the light from Liam’s phone flick on from behind the heavy material.

“You did not wake me up to show me a YouTube video,” Liam replies, exasperation evident.

“Please Liam, you weren’t asleep. If you haven’t posted a selfie of yourself in bed you haven’t really gone to bed, and I already checked your Instagram,” Louis answers.

“If both of you don’t shut the fuck up I am literally quitting and leaving you two to kill each other,” Stan’s tired voice cuts in from the bunk above Louis’.

“Come on, Li, in the lounge,” Louis pleads. “It’ worth it.”

“Fine,” Liam huffs, flinging the curtain back. “If it’s another stupid cat video I’ll shove my drumsticks so far up you-“

“It’s not a cat video!” Louis protests. “Don’t be such a baby, just come see!”

Louis and Liam might bicker like an old married couple, but, like an old married couple, they really do love each other. They would have never found each other or stayed together if it wasn’t for a mutual love for music, but their initial wariness and dislike of each other eventually gave way to the most brotherly relationship Louis has. Well, except for his actual brother. But he still hasn’t mastered the art of walking and talking so Louis thinks he can still count Liam as his number one for now.

“Just watch this,” Louis instructs when they’re both seated on the large leather couch that makes up their tour bus’ lounge area, complete with a flat-screen and an X-Box. He shoves his laptop into Liam’s hands and trains his eyes on Liam’s face so he can take in his reaction. The thing is, Liam and Louis are good at this. They make music in a trio, but they’re a team when it comes down to it, writing their best songs together and looking for new talent and openers together, which they always select themselves for their tours. When The Rogue was first being scouted by record labels, Louis and Liam wouldn’t sign with a major label until they were given their own imprint, so The Rogue runs and releases their own records and can sign other bands to it as well. They regularly search the internet for unknown bands and sign the ones they have a strong instinct about, including bands from as far away as Australia.

So the fact that a cover of “No Control” this good has slipped right under their noses is, frankly, a little upsetting.

“This is that kid from before?” Liam asks, leaning in closer to peer at the low-quality video.

“Yeah, that’s Harry,” Louis says. “And that’s his friend Niall, who I haven’t met yet.”

“They’re good,” Liam remarks. “Really good.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Louis asks. Liam knows. Liam always knows. They have a system.

“No way, Lou. There’s no way.”

“But we have to!” Louis argues.

“If you want to be attacked by crazy fans, be my guest,” Liam huffs. “But I’m not doing it. And remember a girl actually hid in a bin once to try to meet us backstage.”

“You’re doing it,” Louis tells him.

“I’m not.”

It’s around ten in the morning when Louis starts putting gel in his hair, slicking it all the way back before he stuffs it under a beanie, giving him the appearance that he is essentially bald. Next he puts on their bus driver, Ed’s, sunglasses, a pair of silver-framed lenses that Louis would rather be caught dead in on any other day. To top it off, he throws on an oversized plaid button down belonging to Derek and the tightest pair of jeans he owns before shoving his feet into a pair of moccasins.

“You know when you get caught, which you will, it’s going to be even more embarrassing than if you hadn’t tried to disguise yourself at all,” Stan snickers from where he’s lying on the couch watching Louis and Liam get ready.

“You know you could get off your arse and come with us,” Louis sniffs, sliding a few necklaces on over the button-down he fastened up to the collar. He’ll be sweating his balls off within minutes under the Arizona sun, but he hopes he’s dressed so unlike himself that he won’t be stopped to sign tickets and take selfies.

“I honestly hate you so much right now,” Liam groans as he adjusts the wig on his head. Being muscular with a shaved head, it was harder to disguise Liam than it was Louis. But once Louis gets his mind set on something, it’s stuck, and Liam has a hard time saying no, especially to him. Louis once managed to convince Liam to eat a burger tossed onstage off the ground. So when Louis plunked a wig on his head and flung a sweatband towards him, Liam had no choice but to wear it.

“This is by far the dumbest thing you two have ever done,” Stan laughs as he snaps a picture of them. “Once you get back from your little adventure, this will be all over Twitter.”

“Dick,” Liam mutters at the same time Louis retorts a haughty “I don’t care.”

It’s not that Liam and Louis hate meeting fans. It’s quite the opposite, really. But their fanbase is quite large and can be rabid at worst. To go out without a disguise or any security is asking to be touched without permission, yelled at, pulled at and essentially unable to think or even breathe easily. Louis would say hi to all of them if he could, but it’s just not feasible, and going out to meet fans without some sort of crowd control is a danger for everyone. It’s a shame he, Liam and Stan can’t meet for when they do signings, but they’re on a strict time limit and can only do so much.

“Come on Lou, let’s get this over with,” Liam sighs as he exits the bus. Louis follows with an excited smile. They’re off to watch what Louis thinks could be the best band to come out of Warped Tour.

\+ -

“This is by far the worst thing you’ve ever made me do,” Liam hisses in Louis’ ear as they stand in the small crowd gathered before Irish Breakfast, sticking out in their outfits but not in the way they feared. They're definitely the oldest and the biggest in the audience and have received quite a few looks, though no one's seemed to catch on yet.

“Shush, Liam, they’re almost done,” Louis whispers back sharply, wiping the sweat off his forehead. It really is hot out here. Liam and Louis have a system for scouting new bands. They discover, and then they stalk. If they like what they see, they pounce.

“Your boy’s got a good voice,” Liam whispers again, and Louis is thankful for the heat to hide his blush. Harry is not his boy. He’s not his anything, really. They’ve hung out briefly, but it’s only been less than a week and a hectic one at that. The thing about Warped Tour, though, is that it’s like living in a bubble. You see the same people every day for so many days in a row that eventually it feels like the Twilight Zone. Forty days on Warped Tour are like four years in another world, the normal world. And in a normal world, Louis Tomlinson is fascinated by Harry Styles.

“His friend’s good, too,” Louis hums in agreement. Niall’s voice is not as versatile or classically strong as Harry’s is, but it’s a great voice all the same. It’s a little rough and very boyish, but perfect for the singer-songwriter act.

“Shame their crowd’s so small, though,” Liam sighs. Louis grins.

“We can easily change that.”

+-

“What the fuck?!” Niall blurts loudly as he and Harry step under their tent the next morning. Their typically small crowd has easily doubled in size. They start laughing at Niall’s words and he blushes, slipping his sunglasses on his face.

“Where did all these people come from?” He hisses into Harry’s ear, who is scanning their audience with wide eyes, a bit pale underneath the sunburn he received when he fell asleep in the parking lot yesterday afternoon.

“No idea,” Harry murmurs, slinging his guitar over his neck. “Hello, we’re Irish Breakfast,” he says to the audience, mostly teenage girls. “Thank you for coming to see us this morning!” And they’re off.

Normally, their audience disperses when they’re done playing, one or two fans sticking around to talk to Niall and Harry or possibly take a picture. Today, there are about seven girls hanging around the tent as they finish.

“Harry! Can I get a selfie?” A girl with long brown hair asks, holding her phone out. “Of course!” He says, crouching down and grinning into the cracked iPhone screen.

“Thanks for coming out to see us,” he says once she’s approved it.

“I listened to you nonstop last night!” The girl tells him. “I saw Louis’ tweet and decided to check you guys out, since he turned me on to 5 Seconds of Summer.”

Harry nods, pretending he knows exactly what she’s talking about. As soon as the last fan leaves, Harry is pulling Niall to their van where he left his phone.

“That was so cool!” Niall is rambling as they walk, amazed by the response they got this morning. It’s not large by any means, but it’s an improvement. “We gotta check Twitter first thing!”

Harry digs under the passenger seat for his phone, opening Twitter and typing in Louis’ handle. He hadn’t seen the boy all day yesterday and hasn’t spoken to him since before that. Whatever Louis tweeted is news to him.

@Louis_Tomlinson: “Make sure you check out Irish Breakfast on Warped this summer !! Super nice lads and great music! Deffo gonna be huge !!!”

Shit. The tweet has 975 retweets and 2.7k favorites.

“Niall, oh my god, Niall,” Harry says slowly, laughing a bit incredulously as he shoves his phone over to Niall. “Louis Tomlinson just said we were great. On the internet. To millions of people.” Niall just stares at the screen, uncharacteristically quiet. He types in Liam’s name before letting out a disbelieving chuckle.

“Haz, Liam Payne said he saw us and we were amazing,” Niall tells him, speaking slowly and incredulously. “When the fuck did Liam Payne see us?”

“He retweeted something,” Harry points out, looking at the second tweet on Liam’s timeline.

@TheRogueOfficial: “Check out these two losers hiding in disguise this morning! Bloody idiots! -Stan” The attached picture is of Louis and Liam on their tour bus, dressed ridiculously.

“Hold up,” Niall says. “Weren’t they…in our audience yesterday?”

“Shit,” Harry breathes again. “We got checked out by The Rogue.”

All of a sudden both of them are screaming, hugging and shaking each other in disbelief.

“We got checked out by The Rogue!” Niall laughs giddily. “We were scoped out by Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne! Holy fuck!”

They scream and blabber for a few more moments before calming down slightly, still feeling a rush of adrenaline.

“Well, come on Ni,” Harry says as he steps out of the van, stretching his limbs. “Let’s go sell some t-shirts and CD’s. I think we might get some people to buy them this time!”

+-

Louis is lying in the lounge of the bus, enjoying the delicious cool air blowing strong enough to ruffle his feathery strands of hair, when there’s a knock on the door. Since Stan, Liam and their crew are all out, he gets up to answer it.

“Hiya Harry, what’s up?” He says when he sees the tall boy waiting outside the door, shuffling his weight between his feet and biting down on his lip.

“I, um…can I talk to you for a minute?” Harry asks nervously. Louis looks him up and down, taking in his nervous stance and hesitation.

“Sure kid, come on in.” He walks back to his spot on the couch and takes a seat, gesturing for Harry to sit across from him.

“You alright?” “Louis,” Harry begins, looking up to meet his eyes.

“This morning Niall and I walked out to the tent to see a crowd double the normal size waiting for us to perform. Then we checked Twitter and noticed we gained, like, 200 percent more follower’s overnight. I was asked to take several selfies today and kids actually knew our names when they asked.” Louis smiles, waiting for Harry to finish.“Needless to say,” he continues, “To say I’m alright would be an understatement. I just wanted to say thank you. Like, really, seriously, thank you.”

Louis’ smile widens, showing his small teeth and crinkling his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me, Harry,” he says softly. “I meant what I said. You and Niall have so much talent and you’re going to be huge. I’d bet everything I have on it.”

“I don’t think you get it, Lou,” Harry says. “The power you have. Most bands would kill to be in the same room as you, let alone be mentioned by you. I guess I just don’t…get why you did all of that. I mean, you woke up early, disguised yourself, risked being mobbed by fans and all, just to see Niall and I play the same shitty guitars we’ve had since high school. You and Liam both, it’s just…absolutely incredible, really.”

“Harry,” Louis repeats in the same tone. “Most bands don’t have what you and Niall have. Liam and I would know, we’ve seen hundreds of them. We woke up to see you play because we knew you had something and wanted to see it for ourselves. The disguise was selfish, really. We wanted to pay attention to you without being bothered. And the tweets were the least we could do. So don’t thank me again, please. It was a pleasure.”

“Ok,” Harry agrees, looking down at his feet. “But…why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Niall and I would have, like, I don’t know…done something differently, maybe.”

“What would be the fun in that?” Louis laughs. “You were great the way you were, and wouldn’t you have been more nervous if you knew we were there? The first tour is daunting enough as it is.”

“Good point,” Harry replies.

“Besides,” Louis says. “How would I have told you I was coming? I don’t even have your phone number and I didn’t see you at all yesterday.”

“Which totally sucked,” Harry mutters, before slapping his hand over his mouth. He cannot believe he just said that out loud.

“Sorry, kid, had lots to do,” Louis laughs. “Signings and performances and interviews and all. But here, give me your phone.”

Harry hands over his battered iPhone and Louis types his number before calling himself so he has Harry’s saved in his.

“Sick,” Harry says as he saves Louis’ name. He stands in an effort to get out of there before he embarrassing himself any further. “Thanks, again. Sorry for interrupting whatever you were doing,” he says, lifting his hand in an awkward wave.

“I wasn’t doing anything but taking a nap and being terribly lazy,” Louis answers, lowering himself to a sleeping position on the couch. “It was beautiful.”

“It is nice in here,” Harry agrees. “Our van’s air conditioner is kind of shitty so Niall and I have been finding trees to sit under most of the time when we’re not at the merch tent. Anyway, see you.”

“Wait,” Louis says, sitting up. “Just hang out in here! It’s hot as fuck out there and you’re wearing black jeans and boots, for God knows why.”

“Really?” Harry asks, hoping Louis is being serious. He really doesn’t feel like going back out there.

“Course,” Louis says. “There’s water and stuff in the fridge. I was going to play Fifa for a bit if you want. Niall can come too, if he wants.”

“He definitely wants to,” Harry says as he lowers himself back onto the leather couch, relishing in the cool material against his skin. “He said he was going to pass out if we didn’t get some cold air soon.”

“Just wait to the east coast, kid,” Louis replies. “A 110 degree day in Arizona is nothing compared to a 80 degree day in New Jersey.”

“How does that work?” Harry asks, letting his hair out of the bun he’d had it tied back in and running his hands through it.

“It, um, it’s because the air here is dry,” Louis says, getting distracted as he watches Harry let his hair down. “New Jersey is on the coast, so the ocean makes the air humid. It literally can be so humid you feel like you’re weighted down and choking. Disgusting, honestly.”

“Great,” Harry sighs sarcastically. “Something to look forward to.”

“S’not so bad, though,” Louis says. “We normally get a day off around then. Get to go to the beach or head into New York if we want. I normally go to the beach, myself, but Stan likes the city.”

“I’ve never been to the beach,” Harry says excitedly, doing a little bounce in his seat. His enthusiasm is endearing as all hell and Louis can actually feel his face softening as he looks at him.

“It’s fun,” Louis tells him. “You should come with Li and I. We normally surf a bit but you can swim and stuff too. I normally take a nap out there.”

“Is it pretty?” Harry asks, before rolling his eyes. “Sorry, that was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t,” Louis argues. “Nothing you say to me will be dumb, Harry, so don’t worry so much.” Harry blushes but doesn’t say anything, so Louis carries on. “It is pretty,” he answers. “I mean, there’s a lot of people and it can be sort of dirty, but the water’s nice and there’s a lot of boardwalks and shops. New Jersey has my favorite beaches, actually. Except for Australia and like, Hawaii. But they’re definitely at the top of the list, for sure.”

“I’m excited then,” Harry replies. “I like pretty things.”

“I’m excited for you,” Louis smiles, looking at Harry until his green eyes move up to meet Louis’ blue. For a moment, their eyes are locked and the air feels intense, charged with something Harry wants to chase, but Louis pulls his eyes away, flicking back to the muted TV playing in the background.

“Fifa?” Louis asks. And that’s the end of that.

+-

Niall joins them about forty minutes later, collapsing onto the leather before he even introduces himself to Louis, who watches him with an amused smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “Fucking Christ, it’s hot out there,” he groans, tossing his pink arm over his eyes and flopping his sneakers onto the couch.

“Niall,” Harry hisses, causing the blond to sit up in annoyance. Harry tilts his head at Louis, and realization blooms in Niall’s eyes.

“Shit! Sorry, mate. Niall Horan,” Niall booms, extending his hand to Louis, who shakes it firmly.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he answers. “Nice to meet you.”

“Really nice to meet you,” Niall enthuses as he shakes Louis’ hand vigorously. Harry can’t watch.

“What you did was so incredible, mate!” Niall adds, still shaking his hand. Louis is trying not to laugh, Harry can tell. He is going to kill Niall later. Not that his first meeting with Louis was any better, to be fair.

“Really meant a lot to us!” Niall continues, before Louis firmly but gently extracts his hand from what could be the longest first handshake in history.

“It was a pleasure,” Louis tells him. “You guys are great. Liam and I were impressed.”

“Where is Liam?” Harry cuts in, noticing how empty the bus is. “And Stan?”

“They were walking around, hanging out and looking for food last I knew,” Louis answers. “Should be back any minute.”

As if on cue, the door to the bus swings open and Liam and Stan enter, red-faced and sweating.

“Oi! Tommo! Everyone was asking where your fat arse was this morning,” Stan calls. Louis rolls his eyes as they make their way to the lounge area.

“Guys, this is Niall,” he says, gesturing to where a slightly starstruck Niall is sitting. “You already met Harry.”

“Hey mate, nice to see you,” Liam says to Harry before going to say hello to Niall, who seems to have lost the excessive speech he used on Louis and is looking at Liam wordlessly.

“You, you’re…” He stutters, before looking at Harry in a silent cry for help.

“We’re big fans,” Harry cuts in, thankful Liam is as kind as he is.

“Don’t be nervous man, we’re big fans of yours too,” Liam says to Niall, who laughs a bit to himself before shaking Liam’s hand.

“Seriously, don’t be nervous,” Stan says over Liam’s shoulder. “Liam told Travis Barker he loved him when they met. Didn’t say hello or anything, just flat out said ‘I love you.’”

“And Stan was so excited to meet Dave Grohl that after they shook hands, Dave had to wipe the sweat from Stan’s palms off on his jeans,” Louis cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Absolutely sickening.”

“Louis cried when Jesse Lacey complimented his lyrics,” Liam tells Niall and Harry, who are trying not to laugh at that.

“Excuse me, Payno,” Louis sniffs. “I didn’t cry. I just had allergies.”

“Totally cried,” Stan stage whispers.

“We really are the most embarrassing band in the world,” Liam laughs. But the tension is broken, and the five of them hang out comfortably until The Rogue has to leave to do their performance, followed immediately by their signing. They leave their bus open to Niall and Harry, who just look at each other after the band leaves their bus.

“Are we really hanging out on The Rogue’s tour bus right now?” Niall asks Harry.

“You know what, I think we really are,” Harry answers. And it’s only the first week of tour.

+-

Louis is nestled in his bunk that night when his phone vibrates with a text message from “Harry” saved with the Irish flag and coffee cup emojis.

_Thanks again for today. Was nice hanging out with you and the lads. Sleep well xx._

Louis doesn’t need to know Harry and Niall drafted that text for a solid half hour as they drove to their next spot before agreeing on one they agreed had the right amount of appreciation but was still friendly and casual.

**Consider yourselves welcome anytime. Tina’s door is always open!**

_Tina?_ Harry types as he lets out a snort. Leave it to Louis to name their tour bus.

 **Don’t mock my one true love** , Louis responds. **Tina’s a faithful companion**.

 _Didn’t know you were taken. The fangirls will be so upset!_ Harry sends back.

 **They never had a chance anyway** , Louis answers. _What a shame,_ Harry types out.

 **Is it?** Louis asks.

Harry chokes on his coffee, spluttering everywhere. “What are you doing?” Niall asks, glancing over from the driver’s seat.

“I think Louis might be flirting with me,” Harry says dazedly.

“Atta boy!” Niall grins, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “You shoulda seen the way you look at him! I knew you liked him.”

“Shut up,” Harry mutters, cheeks burning. His phone buzzes again.

**Night, Haz. See you tomorrow xx**


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey,” Louis hears a low voice say from behind him at the exact moment his snapback gets flipped off his head.

“Hey yourself, Curly,” Louis replies as he turns, already knowing who it is that sidled up behind him in line for the barbecue.

“How are you?” Harry asks, pulling Louis’ hat on backwards over his shaggy curls, dimples popping out in his cheeks as he smiles.

“Alright, yourself?” Louis is happy to see Harry, whose presence is the best distraction from the long line for barbecue he’s currently standing in at the end of another day.

“I’m awesome!” Harry tells him, keyed up and bouncing on his toes a little before he stumbles on himself and relaxes back down.

Louis smiles, running his eyes over Harry from top to bottom, taking in his tan and tattooed arms, visible under the white tank top that barely counts as a top he’s sporting.

“Ask me why!” Harry demands, pouting his bottom lip.

“Why what?” Louis teases.

“Louuuuu,” Harry whines, sticking his bottom lip out a bit more. Louis caves.

“What has gotten you so excited, Harry?” Louis asks.

“Just talked to Kevin,” Harry tells him, Cheshire cat smile taking over his entire face.

“Well, that’s nice,” Louis quips. “He’s pretty cool. Likes when you compliment his fisherman’s hat, I’ve learned.”

“I wasn’t finished, smartass,” Harry retorts, poking Louis in the ribs. Louis raises his eyebrows and Harry takes a deep breath, gearing himself up.

“I talked to Kevin and he said he’s going to start moving us up in rotation with the other bands!” Harry finishes, spreading his arms wide in a grand flourish.

“Seriously? That’s amazing, Harry!” Louis exclaims, raising both of his hands for a double high-five. What he doesn’t expect is an armful of boy, squeezing him tight and burying his face in Louis’ hair.

“Oof,” Louis mutters as Harry pummels into him, closing his eyes as his chin hooks over Harry’s shoulder, Harry’s nose buried in his hair.

“More than amazing,” Harry mutters into his hair. And it should be disgusting, really. Louis finished a show roughly forty-five minutes ago and his hair is undoubtedly smelly and dirty from where it was stuffed under his snapback in the Texas sun. But he can’t stop himself from winding his arms around Harry’s upper back, holding him in place as Harry sighs contentedly. 

It is amazing, really. Warped Tour operates under a principal of fairness, alternating the time slots of each band every day so it’s fair. However, that comes with limits. A band as big as The Rogue will never be found playing before three or four in the afternoon. A hometown band always gets a later slot, which can be a challenge in states with big alternative scenes, like California and New Jersey. And for Irish Breakfast, who has become known as “the luckiest band on Warped Tour,” their set time is always first, because it wouldn’t be fair to another band that earned their slot on Warped to open for a band with an audience of ten kids and some bored parents. Unless, of course, the luckiest band on Warped Tour has managed to befriend Warped Tour’s biggest act.

“He said our audience has been getting a lot bigger and he’s heard people checking us out, so he’s going to start mixing us in the other artists,” Harry babbles once he pulls away, arms slipping slowly from their spot on Louis’ waist, wide eyes shining with an excitement that makes Louis nostalgic for his first tour.

“Um, you boys might want to move on,” Jess Bowen, drummer of The Summer Set, points out, gesturing to the amount of people moving around Louis to get their food.

“Oops,” Harry murmurs, blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Come on, Curly, I’ll be livid if I have to wait for the next round of burgers,” Louis says, tugging on Harry’s arm to follow him.

“So,” Harry begins once their sitting in lawn chairs, paper plates of burgers and potato salad balanced on their laps. “I really want to take you out, as, like, a thank you?” His voice rises at the end of the sentence, turning it into a question.

“There’s honestly no reason to thank me, kid. You and Niall are the ones playing every morning and driving around in a cramped up van every night. All I did was make a tweet,” Louis replies.

“That’s not true,” Harry mutters quietly. “You did more than that and you know it,” Harry continues, voice growing louder with confidence. “You dressed up and took the time to watch us play, you befriended Niall and I and showed us around when we didn’t know anyone here and you knew what tweeting about us would do. So let me take you out, please.”

Louis, for once, does not have a reply resting on the tip of his tongue. “Well, can’t argue with that, I guess.”

“Yeah, so I was thinking maybe Niall could sleep on your bus and I could take you out as a thank you?” Harry asks, cheeks turning pink. “Not that Niall isn’t thankful too, because he is, but there’s only two of us and one of us has to drive the van so I thought that you could ride with me to San Antonio and I could take you out for a proper dinner tomorrow night. We would get to the venue a little bit later than the rest of the buses but you could go on yours once we get there. Unless you don’t want to, which-“

“Harry,” Louis interrupts, stopping Harry in his babble. “Slow down. I would love to get dinner and ride in the van with you. I’m not that spoiled, you know. I can drive in a van for a night.”

“Right,” Harry answers. “Right. So, tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies. “Tomorrow.”  
\+ -

“Hey, so Niall’s going to sleep on the bus tonight,” Louis says casually as he walks with Stan and Liam to the merch booth where they’ll be doing their signing. 

“How come?” Stan asks, taking a swig from the bottle of water that’s sweating condensation down his arms. 

“Harry asked if he could take me out tonight as, like, a thank you for showing him the ropes and tweeting about him and stuff,” Louis replies as nonchalantly as possible, trying to avoid what he knows is coming. 

“Sounds like a date,” Liam comments.

“It’s not a date,” Louis says quickly. Not that it matters. Stan’s already crowing next to him, and once he starts it’s hard to shut him up.

“Our Tommo’s got a daaaaaate,” he teases, ruffling Louis’ hair as he skips forward.

“It’s not a date!” Louis insists.

“It’s a date,” Liam says.

“Et tu, Brutus?” 

“Sorry, dude, but it’s a date,” Liam defends, raising his palms. “Harry’s been into you since you guys met and you’ve been into him for nearly as long. Plus, I tweeted too, and Niall is in Harry’s   
band, yet neither of us are being taken out. It’s a date.”

“Shut up,” Louis mumbles. 

“Aw, don’t be like that, Tommo!” Stan teases. “It’s about time! You never date. Besides, everyone’s been waiting for you to hook up. We’ve had a bet going, actually.”

“We’re not hooking up!” Louis cries. And then what Stan says hits him and his eyes narrow. “Wait. What bet?”

“The bet to see when you and Harry finally shag,” Liam supplies. Louis whacks him.

“Hey!” Liam cries, rubbing at his bicep.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Louis hisses. He goes to storm off but stops before he can get too far.

‘Wait. When do you two have bets placed?”

“I have my money on tomorrow and Liam has next Wednesday,” Stan offers helpfully.

“Excellent.” Louis says primly. “Thank you.” 

As he walks ahead of them, Liam slaps Stan on the arm.

“What was that for?” Stan yelps. Liam has a lot of muscle from drumming. He can pack a punch.

“He’s going to hook up with Harry,” Liam tells him. “And now he’s going to wait until a day we don’t have bets placed. Stubborn prick.”

It’s not like Louis hasn’t thought about it.  
\+ -

“Welcome to our home,” Harry says as he tosses the door to the van open with a flourish.

“It’s…a van,” Louis comments as he takes a seat on the passenger seat, wiping off leftover crumbs, a pair of sunglasses and about seven empty bottles.

“That it is,” Harry agrees cheerfully as he slides behind the steering wheel. “But it’s all we’ve got.”

“it’s a rite of passage,” Louis says. “Every band tours in a shitty van at first.”

“Don’t gloat,” Harry warns. “We can’t all lounge about on air-conditioned buses.”

“I wasn’t gloating,” Louis says. “If I’m being honest, I miss the van days sometimes. Not that I don’t love the bus, but there was something about the van tours.”

“Nothing like waking up with someone else’s foot in your face?” Harry offers, laughing a bit.

“It was just fun,” Louis answers, shrugging his shoulders. “Time goes by fast and while I certainly never want to subject myself to Stan’s driving again, it was nice just driving sometimes with only Stan and Liam and whatever friend we coerced into selling our stuff. All that bonding and shit, you know?”

“Bonding and shit,” Harry replies. “How eloquent.”

Louis hums in acknowledgement and they drive for a while in an uneasy silence before Harry speaks up again.

“I guess I know what you mean, though. Niall’s my best mate. I can’t really imagine doing this without talking to him and being with him all the time.”

“Enjoy it, curly,” Louis says. “You only do it for the first time once.”

“I am,” Harry tells him. “I’m really enjoying it.”

“I’m glad,” Louis answers softly, turning to look at Harry’s profile. He has his hair long and loose, wisps flying around his face from the air coming through the half-open window. Sunglasses are perched on his regal-looking nose and he chews on his bottom lip a bit as he drives, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along with the country music playing through the radio. It’s endearing as all get out if Louis’s being honest with himself. 

“So,” Louis continues, snapping himself out of his fond gaze. “Why on earth are we listening to a song about pickup trucks and fishing poles right now?”

“Niall and I decided to only listen to local radio stations during the tour,” Harry answers. Louis smiles involuntarily because that is so cute and so Harry that he can’t help it.

“To each his own,” Louis says in response. “But personally, I would rather not listen to songs about beer and Alabama.”

“You can change it if you want,” Harry offers. “We don’t get the best radio signal all the time and we don’t have anything to play an iPod, but you can put on a CD if you want,” he gestures to the scratched-up discs scattered among the other debris in the van, some clearly organized and in cases and other strewn about in abandon. 

Louis is fishing through the CD’s, surprised at the variety (The Spice Girls, really?) but pauses when he comes to one.

“Hey…this is mine,” Louis says, holding up the case to The Rogue’s very first album.

“So it is,” Harry replies, grinning. “It’s, y’know, it’s ok,” he teases. “Not great or anything.”

“I’ll have you know I poured my heart and soul into that album, Harold. It was and is fine art. Art!” Louis emphasizes, case flying as he moves his arms dramatically.

“Whoops,” He mutters, watching the case fly into the back of the van.

Harry laughs and glances at Louis in the rearview mirror. “You can go grab it if you want,” he suggests, but Louis blows it off.

“Nah, I was only kidding,” he says. “Wasn’t really my favorite record anyway.”

“You don’t like your own music?” Harry asks.

“I like it enough,” Louis answers, shrugging again. “I normally really like them when we finish and then I hate them as I listen back later. I only like what’s shiny and new, I guess. And then I   
get bored. Pretty typical for me.”

“I hope not,” Harry mumbles under his breath, but something tells him Louis heard him anyway.

\+ -

Harry stops at some hole in the wall barbecue joint with what is hands down the best ribs Louis has ever eaten. They gorge themselves on ribs and pulled pork, mac and cheese and glasses of iced tea as Harry tells Louis all about his family and friends and interests.

“That was the best thing I have ever eaten,” Harry sighs, wondering if he could subtly unbutton his jeans underneath the table without Louis noticing.

“You gotta love Texas,” Louis groans, looking a bit green as he pushes his plate away.

“I think I have a new favorite state,” Harry agrees, moaning as he forces himself to stand up. 

Louis whines as Harry motions for him to stand, holding up his hand for Harry to help him up. He pretends he doesn’t feel anything when Harry twines their fingers together, leading them out   
the restaurant to the truck.

“Look, Lou, a band!” Harry says excitedly, gesturing to a bar across the street where a country band is playing on a stage underneath trees strung up with twinkle lights.

They stroll over to where people are dancing, cowboy boots kicking up dirt under their boots as they twirl to the music.

“Dance with me,” Harry demands, pulling Louis towards the middle of the throng of people, swaying his hips rhythmically as he does.

“Please no,” Louis argues, covering his face with his hand as Harry begins to dance on his own, arms up in the air.

“Come on, Lou, please,” Harry pouts, sticking out his lower lip. “We’re only going to be in Texas together once and I want to dance with you!”

“Alright,” Louis gives in, grabbing Harry’s hand and lifting it to twirl him under. “Just for you, kid.”

Louis can hear the snaps of cell phone cameras from the people around them and he only hopes they’re not taking pictures of him as he and Harry pretend to square dance and tip imaginary hats at each other. They dance for an hour before they call it quits, buying bottles of water before getting back in the van and heading onto the road.

“You’re a good dancer,” Louis mumbles drowsily from the passenger seat. He’s so comfortable folded on the bucket seat, just Harry and an open road, radio playing quietly as they make their way to the next stop. He always was comfortable on the road.

“Just kind of an idiot, really,” Harry says in response, giving Louis an ample opportunity to make one of his cutting remarks, as he so usually does.

“Wouldn’t agree with that myself,” Louis whispers, much more gentle and honest than his typical show-off veneer.

Harry blushes, running a hand through his hair as he attempts to think up a way to answer that. Minutes pass before his nervous voice creeps out into the dark.

“Louis?” 

“Yeah, kid?” Louis answers.

“Was this a date?” Harry’s voice is timid, afraid of the answer.

“Do you want it to be?” Louis asks in return.

“Yes, please.” Louis laughs quietly in his seat, but it’s an adoring sort of laugh, the one you make when you’re so fond of someone or something that you can’t help it.

“Then it’s a date.”

\+ -

At some point in the night, Louis must wake up from where he conked out in the passenger seat and makes his way to the back of the van, crawling up next to Harry and falling back asleep with a stack of Irish Breakfast t-shirts as his pillow.

Harry wakes up to the van door being thrown open and a loud cackle of Irish laughter.

“Look at you two! Curled up like puppies and all!” Niall laughs, snapping a picture on his iPhone. "So damn cute!"

“Niall, I am actually going to murder you,” Louis deadpans from where he’s lying curled up on his side, shoving his face into his makeshift pillow.

“No you wouldn’t!” Niall sings as he starts rummaging through the van for his stuff. “You like Harry too much to hurt me!”

“The little bastard has a point,” Louis mumbles, making Harry laugh too. 

“Come on Harry, get up, we have a show to play!” Niall calls, grabbing his guitar and tossing a tank top of questionable cleanliness on Harry’s face.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Harry groans, scrubbing his hand over his face as he moves into a sitting position. 

“Lou? Do you want to go to your bus?” Harry asks gently, running a hand over Louis’ back. They arrived at the venue late last night and only slept for a few hours.

Louis whines before he sits up, hair sticking up in a million directions and baring a strong resemblance to a disgruntled kitten.

“Come on,” Harry says, beckoning him out of the van. He walks Louis over to his bus and hesitates outside, unsure of what to do. Is it too soon for him to kiss Louis? Would Louis even want to? He’s cute and caring but intimidating as hell and Harry isn’t quite sure what the precedent is for kissing someone you spent the night in a dirty van with while he’s wearing messy clothes and can’t quite remember his last shower. 

“Louis! We have to do that interview with Fuse this morning! Did you forget?” Liam reminds him as he tosses open the door to the bus. “Hurry up and shower dude, we have to go in ten minutes!”

“Shit,” Louis mumbles. He looks at Harry apologetically before smiling softly. 

“We better go,” he reminds Harry, gently pushing him to where an impatient-looking Niall is waiting across the parking lot. “Sing pretty, kid.”

Harry smiles too wide for his face, white teeth on display, as he starts backing up. “I always do, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. I realize this chapter is a bit boring. There are two reasons:
> 
> 1\. It was pretty much filler and the interesting stuff happens next time.  
> 2\. I've been crazy busy lately so I did my best to get it done before my birthday, which as it turns out, I am five minutes late on my goal. Bummer.
> 
> But please let me know how you're liking it! Updates again soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, to be totally honest, I don't have plans for this fic. No idea how long it will be, plot, anything. But let me know if you like it or hate it! Thanks for reading!


End file.
